Beautiful Ways
by EdwardWongHauPepiluTivriskyIV
Summary: He had lost his way. She was just lost. When the two meet in the middle, a new path opens up. Lupin/Tonks
1. Chapter 1

Ugh. Is it morning already? That extra shift yesterday really wiped me out! I'll bet Emmeline wasn't sick and just wanted the day off. Rufus Scrimgoer has been working all us to the bone lately. At least I held shift with Kingsly. I don't care what people say, he does have a good sense of humor. I should just stay home today in bed. People who do night shifts shouldn't have to go in the next morning.

Finally, I decide to open my eyes. My flat is the same as yesterday, as ever, messy. Clothes are all over the floor, still; I meant to pick them up, I really did. Empty takeout cartons are still on the kitchen table. EW. I had takeout a week ago. That's what happens when your boss has you running around constantly on bizree shift hours. Wonder why my alarm hasn't gone off yet? I am never up before it. As I turn to my nightstand, I realize my alarm clock isn't there. Looking down, I see it on the floor, shattered. Great. This has to be the third clock I broke in two months. Why couldn't I be the kinds of people whos internal clocks were so syncronized, they woke up the same time everyday without fail? Oh, right. It's because I go to bed late every night. I got to see what time it is. My bed stays unmade as I stumble to the livingroom to see the clock on the wall say seven-thirty. Seven-thirty! My shift starts at eight and I'm going to be late! Scrimgoer is going to sack me for sure. Not to mention, Moody will have my ass for this. They will tell me, blah blah incompetence, blah blah alarm clock. I've already got their lectures down in my head. I wouldn't dare dicate it back or immitate it to them, though.

They don't understand my ability to break alaram clocks in my sleep so they don't bother me in the morning. That kind of defeats the purpose for having one, but on most mornings, I'm able to get my butt out of bed and manage to stay in one piece.

If I get dressed and ready fast enough, maybe I can get there just in time. Thank goodness for apparation. Don't know how muggles get to work on time with London's busy streets. Hastily, I grab the cleanest clothes on the top of my wardrobe and dress. Where is my cloak? I see the hooded black garment in a heap by the door where I couldn't care less if it made it onto its hook or not last night. My boots were also at the door where I kicked them off. That only leaves one thing, my wand. Where did I put that thing? Lets see… I had it last night when I dragged my tired butt into my small loft. I took it out of my pocket when I plopped—It was supposed to be on the nightstand. It must've rolled off when my alarm clock took its leap. Checking behind the small table, there it was, in all its scratched and knicked glory. Show how much use it has been, thank you very much.

Slipping my boots on, I don't have time for the laces as I lock up and dash. Out of human sight, I apparated to the Ministry.

I have that "I was just here not too long ago," feeling as I make a run to my department before I have to get an earfull. I do a damn good job and am committed to my work, so why should it matter if I'm a few minutes late? I won't even allow myself to stop and check the time.

Suddenly, I feel a snag. My left foot won't move forward and I stumble. Damn. I should've tied my shoes this morning. Stupidly, I grab the shoulder of the bloke in front of me and we both go down.

"Ow," replies the man as he lands on the floor with me falling on top of his back. Damn, there goes me being on time.

"I'm so sorry," I mumble a few times as I try to get up. He cranes his head to see who took him down and smiles. This man is kind of handsome, even though he has a multitude of small scars and scratches. He looks as if he has a story, been on the dangerous side. And that smile—Tonks get a grip! You're already late as it is! The thought ripped through my fantasy as I remembered where I was.

Why is he smiling at me? I just knocked him down and probally gave him a great bruise with my elbow. The two of us stand up slowly, me a deer in the headlights, watching as the people bustling along the busy way step around us to get where they need to be.

The smiling man looks back at me and asks, "All right ther?" A large clock somewhere rings eight.

"I'm so sorry! I got to go!" I shout as I continue sprinting to the department, too worked up by my collision and the time to think about tying my shoe. I brace myself as I prepare to open the door. Surprisingly, I do not see Scrimgoer around, so I assume he is in his office and go to greet Hestia Jones, who is busy at work, sorting through a stack of papers.

"Wotcher Hestia," I greet as I walk over to her.

"You're late Miss Tonks," she greets casually as she stands up and stretches. Hestia Jones had long black hair that hung loose down her back and rosy cheeks. She was of medium height and medium build. She then sat down and started on her papers again. "Gp 6," she mumbles out of the corner of her mouth. I cough in response.

I am now a member of the Order of the Phoenix. That is Dumbledore's secret society of friends and Allies set on taking down you-know-who and his followers. No one but the members of the organization knows about it. The ministry is against Dumbledore right now, so the Ministry worker apart of the Organization cannot show we are in the Order or Pro-Dumbledore.

Mad-Eye Moody suggested it to Dumbledore to let me join and seeing that I was an auror, showed I had some serious skills under my belt, they joined me in. My first meeting was last week. It was very intimidating seeing all these experienced adults and there I was, a woman in her early twenties with the style and nature of a teenager. It didn't help that my hair was a lovely shade of bubblegum pink, which to most people is very unnatural and "freaky," but to a metamorphagus like myself, a simple change in style in which most people don't have. Try to find someone else for miles with pink hair like mine, I dare you. Also, Sirius Black was there, but that is a story for another day. Let's just say, if you are part of my family and hate most of the others as much as I do, then we will get along just fine.

"So tell me what else is new," I reply with a sigh as I saunter over to the office and give it two short knocks to see what my assignment was going to be for the day.

"Come in," came a gruff voice from behind the door. I take a breath and slowly open the door. Inside, Rufus Scrimgoer was sitting at his desk and Alastor Moody was sitting at a chair in front of it. Moody turns slightly in his chair and they both look at me. At that moment, I wished the ground would have opened up and swallowed me. All of my worst fears were confirmed. They are going to let me have it now.

-----------------------------

The clock on the wall read four in the afternoon. It was a surprise I didn't fall asleep at my desk. I was assigned desk duty for my lateness. After Scrimgoer let me have it for ten minutes; lecturing about the importance of being on time and being responsible. I think Professor McGonagall gave me a lecture similar to this a few times during my fifth year when her class was the first of the day.

After he had his bit, I went to my desk and Mad-Eye let me have it. He told me he did not want to regret suggesting I join the Order if I couldn't handle the simple matter of arriving to work on time. Ten minutes! Stupid handsome man, for making me crash into him!

Alastor's comment got to me. He was my mentor and I did not want to disappoint him. I was going to try harder next time and make sure he does not regret any decisions he makes reguarding me.

I can't even focus my eyes right now. I rub them a bit, blink a few times and regain my vision. No one else is in the entire office. Hestia was sent on a mission unknown to me. I'd have to ask her about it at six when the Order of the Phoenix met at Number twelve Grimmauld Place.

Since I did not get much sleep last night, I decided to go back to my flat and take a nap before the meeting started. Molly Weasley always cooked dinner after the meetings so I would eat then. Since I had tomorrow off from work, my first order of responsibility would be to clean my entire flat from top to bottom. Right now, my bed is calling my name.

-----

Wonder how long I've been out for, I wonder as I get up to check the clock in the livingroom. Second order of business, get a _sturdy_ alarm clock. The clock on the wall said…SIX-FIFTEEN! Bloody Hell! How did I oversleep again! The words that rang through my apartment were enough to make anyone blush. If my neighbors could hear through the thin walls, they would wonder who was killing who. Mad-Eye Moody now KNOWS I can't do it, Dumbledore will be furious, Snape will have some form of smart comment for me and everyone else will think I'm just some punk kid who can't handle the secret. People already wonder how I became an auror in the first place.

I could just stay here and leave them all to their opinions of me and just tell Alastor I want out. He is probally telling Dumbledore now that I cannot handle it and to kick me out. On the other hand, I can show up with my head held high and try not to make a big deal about it. Afterall, accidents do happen. They won't believe that something happened to me, but I don't have to tell them the reason I am late is because I overslept. I can make up an excuse along the way. Maybe I can prove to them I can still do it if I participate in the meeting and show them my brillant ideas.

I quickly fixed myself up, put on my boots and tied them up, grabbed my wand and was on my way. Apparating to the outside of Number twelve Grimmauld Place, I entered quietly. There was low conversation coming from the dinning room and I did not want to make a noisy entrance, so I walked quietly down the hall that led to the dining room. *Bang* *Crash* Shoot! I just had to trip over the umbrealla stand! Trying to regain my professionalism and I trip over the bloody umbrella stand! Everyone must've heard it. So much for making my quiet entrance...

The dining room door opens and Molly Weasley enters through it.

"Are you alright dear?" she questions me worriedly. From behind her back, I can hear Snape smartly question the room, "Look whos decided to join us."

"Wotcher Molly," I reply gloomly, looking down.

"We've just started the meeting," she summed up, seeing the expression on my face. "A few members were also late so there's nothing to worry about. I look up to see the motherly instinct shining through her eyes. As long as other members were late, they shouldn't be angry with me. If I had to hear about it, so would they. Molly moved aside and I enter the room. All eyes were on me as I found an empty seat next to Sirius, but stopped when I saw the person sitting next to him. He was not here at my first meeting, yet I knew his face. He was the handsome man I fell on earlier that day.


	2. Chapter 2

Life is funny. You want to pass through life smoothly, but that is just not possible. Those who want trouble go looking for it. Their pursuit is not the trouble itself, but in order to obtain what they want, will do what it takes. On the other hand, there are others who try to stay on the right track and troubles are delivered to them. I, myself had a special delivery sent to me, but I will not allow it to send me in another direction than the smooth road I try so hard to keep traveling on. My troubles are for a rainy day, though.

Everyone in the room stops as a woman with bright pink hair stumbles in. She wears an expression that screams guilt and as a result, received looks of disapproval from quite a few members. When she searches for a seat, we lock eyes. I recognize her. She is the woman who fell into me on my way through the ministry this morning. It seems as though she is late for the meeting, just as she stated she was late for work earlier today. She may be starting a bad pattern.

At that moment, she had the same expression of realization. I give her a small smile and her cheeks reddened as she looked away and took the seat next to my good friend Sirius Black. It has been quite a few years since he cut his long, curly brown hair and is still quite thin from his wrongful days as a prisoner of Azkaban Prison. He was wrongly accused of the murder of a dear friend of ours and his wife and was sentenced to a long term. He escaped two years ago and is condemned to house arrest here at Twelve Grimmauld place, the home of his awful childhood and now meeting place of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix.

Sirius ruffled her hair and she smacked his hand away, settling in and staring down at the table. The meeting continued on as we were briefed on events previous. I wanted to keep my attention focused on the task at hand, but I was not feeling well from the illness I suffered last week. It is not unlike me to be absent when I can help it. I have been absent for quite a few times in my life and learned to make up for it when possible.

As usual, Severus Snape, a Potion's professor at Hogwarts School and a man of posh stature and chin length black hair and Sirius get into a squabble. One of them would start a snide comment and the other would react. This would not happen if they had not grown up as bitter rivals. I must admit, as Sirius's childhood friend, I had some power to stop the unnecessary teasing, but hadn't. He has not left that behind with his school years. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the pink-haired woman jab Sirius's thigh with her wand, along with a glare. He looks at her and then at Severus. Seeing Severus give up the bicker, he leaned back into his chair and crossed his thin arms over his chest with a smug look. Judging by the look on her face, she wanted them to stop so the meeting would sum up.

As Dumbledore gave his closing words, I felt a dull headache come on. I looked up to see the pink-haired woman looking at me and gave a quick look at my watch, then back at her. She gave a small nod and set her attention back to Dumbledore.

"We will gather for the next meeting, next Friday. Until then, keep your eyes and ears open to everything and don't dive into the water until you know its depths," Dumbledore concluded and everyone started to stand and leave. I remained seated with Sirius. My headache lightened and I had nowhere to be. Neither did Sirius. House arrest made him a lonesome, trapped man who desperately needed company.

"Nymphadora, I would like to have a word with you," retired Auror, Alastor Moody growled to the pink-haired woman, who was trying to make a quick escape. Back turned to the man, she freezes, mouthing a short string of profanities and saunters to a private corner with him.

"She just about made it," Sirius laughs as we watch them leave.

"When did Nymphadora—(I learned her name to be) join the Order of the Phoenix?" I question Sirius who continues to look in the direction they left in.

"She joined at last week's meeting," he informs, turning to me. "Being an Auror, Freak show's a great attribute," Sirius laughs again. "You would know this if you were here last week."

I look at him. This would have struck a nerve if he were not a long-time mate who knew full well why I did not attend. I stare at him over the term freak show.

"Freak show?" I question.

"Yeah. She's my cousin or umm second cousin," Sirius mused. "She's also a Metamorphmangus. Uses her talent to give herself pink hair and other weird things, I.E. freak show." He continues to laugh.

"You never know. It could be useful one day. Just this morning I had—"I stopped when I saw the one called Nymphadora re-enter the room looking upset.

"What's wrong cuz? Old Moody get to ya?" Sirius chuckled, trying to lighten her up.

"Shut up Sirius!" she barked at him and then turned to me.

"We meet again," I try, with a small smile. She lightens up slightly.

"I umm want to apologize for—"

"No need to apologize. Everything happens for a reason."

"Thank you," Nymphadora smiled.

"I'm Remus," I inform her and extend my hand.

"Tonks," She replies as she shakes my hand.

"I was told your name was Nymph—"

She cuts me off. "No. That wretched name was given to me at birth, but I go by Tonks."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Tonks. Sirius has told me quite a bit about you."

"I could only imagine," Tonks growled as she glanced at Sirius who gave her a wide-toothed smile.

"He has informed me that you are an Auror." The lightened expression fades, but she nods.

"I am. I'm a great Auror who has seen quite a bit of desk duty for the pettiest of mistakes. Why can't they just give me a chance?"

"Oh, quit your howling," Sirius presses, then looks at me. "You know all about that howling."

"Like you were when a flea bit you in the--" I remember there is a lady present. She looks a bit confused. She doesn't understand the understated joke going on between us.

"You guys seem like you know each other well."

"Oh yeah! Remus and I have been mates since Hogwarts!" Sirius informs her. Kind of opposites we are, what with him and another one of our friends James causing mischief all the time and me on the other hand, not one for causing trouble, but we all connected so we became great friends.

"How?" she laughs looking at me then giving a sly sideways glance at Sirius.

"Because I'm—look at me! I just ooze awesomeness!" he boasts, pointing to himself.

"I think you need a haircut."

"Said the girl with the loud hair. Can you tell your hair to quiet it down a little, it's like it's screaming at me!" It's kind of amusing watching them go back and forth. It feels like they are siblings instead of distant cousins. Since Sirius grew up in a very troubled home with very blood-prejudice members, he must enjoy having someone he can say he proudly calls family.

"On a serious note, what did Moody say?" Sirius questions Tonks. The pangs of upset replace themselves and she pulls up the chair next to me and puts her chin in her hand. I turn to her, curious on why she was receiving bad news.

She looks at the table as she answers. "Nothing. I'm just letting him down, that's all….just gotta try a little harder."

"Just get through the desk duty and sooner or later, you'll be back out there. Just don't fall asleep at your desk. I hear filing papers can be boring."

"Thanks Sirius," she grumbles. "I have to go." Then, she turns to me. "It was nice to see you again," she smiles.

"The pleasure is all mine," I smile in return and she turns to go. The two of us turn as we hear a crash in the hallway, presumably the antique umbrella stand that she has tripped over on her way here and a short string of curses.

"Alright there cuz?" Sirius yells out to the frazzled Auror.

"I hate this house!" she yells back and then the door slams.

"You and me both," I hear my mate mutter to himself. "Glad not everyone in my "family" is crazy," he spits the word.

"Friendly, she is," I comment. "Though I must say, she has a vocabulary as colorful as yours," I chuckle.

"She tells me they give her a hard time at work because she is one of the youngest aurors ever. She must be doing something right in order to have that title. I personally think it's the hair, but what's wrong with a little rebellion, as long as the jobs gets done."

"Some people are just stuck in the old ways. As long as she doesn't let the pressure get to her, she'll go far. I'm going to get going," I announce standing up. My headache returned and all I want to do is return home and get some rest. I see by the expression on my mates face that he wishes he could get up and go too, but has to stay put. "One day," is all I need to say. I grasp his hand and shake it with an almost sincere promise. Then I turn and leave.

The rain that has been waiting to fall starts when I step up to the door of my home. I laugh to myself thinking Mother Nature was doing this favor for me. My home is an old style house that had once been my parents. They had long passed away and I own it now. It is not much, but its home and it's the best I could do now, not that I'm complaining.

I suffer from Lycanthropy. As a child, I was bitten by a Werewolf named Fenrir Greyback and every month at the full moon, I suffer through the painful transformation of becoming a werewolf. There is no cure for this, but by consuming the Wolfsbane potion, the suffering is less-stated; I am able to keep my mind when the transformation takes place. I still fall ill the week before the full moon, but as time goes on, I am training my body to fight through this and to show it less on the outside. Many people are not too keen on this condition though. Taking odd jobs to make ends meet is not my cup of tea, but when you have a condition like mine, you need to take a little time off every once in a while and many jobs frown upon frequent leave of absences. On the bright side, I am becoming a jack of all trades; accomplishing a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Life is all about learning, right? That is why my living room is filled with books. My dream was to become a teacher, but you need to be there all the time. I had my run of teaching two years ago and enjoyed every minute of it. Dumbledore gave me a position as teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. They have been going through professors every year, so the position was open and I gladly took it and enjoyed every moment of it. Maybe in the future I will be able to find a teaching position with flexibly or find a treatment or cure for my condition, but for now all I could do is continue to learn.

I hang up my cloak and lay on a much worn sofa that has been here for a very long time. It may not be new, but it sure is comfortable and intact and I do not feel the strength to go to my bedroom or to change for the night. I place an afghan over myself and fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

"1792." …What? I was wondering who woke me up when I realized I fell asleep at my desk at work. Even though I knew it, the one thing Sirius told me not to do, happened. I'm an Auror, darn it! I'm supposed to be out there on the scene, locking up criminals and helping maintain the peace, but no, I'm stuck with desk duty due to my… what did Moody say; my inability to be on time and my less-than-enthusiastic… oh what does it matter. At least I know I'm good.

I hear laughing two desks over, Emmeline Vance.

"Back in history of magic?" chuckles the petite, dark-haired woman, writing up a report.

"I'm just so bored. Do I look like the kind of person who sits at a desk and does paperwork all day?"

"You can't even sit still," Emmeline says lightly, standing up and coming over to me. "How was your date last night?"

I put my head back into my arms resting on the desk with a grumble. "It was a nightmare! Men seem to be intimidated by the Auror profession. When he got over that, he thought I was going back to his place and to top it all off had hands with a mind of their own, free to roam where they're not allowed. Left his hands a little tied I did. Boy, do I know how to pick the winners," I muffle, looking up as I feel Emmeline ruffling some of my lavender-today locks.

"Men are swine, you know that. There are good ones out there, but you just have to be patient. That is how I found my Thomas."

"He's a few years younger than you, isn't he?"

"He's a good man, that's all I see. Very supportive, he is."

"Oh no, don't get me wrong, I didn't mean anything by that, it's just—"

She laughs. "I know what you mean. Sometimes you just got to look past what is on the outside to see the heart inside."

I lift my head up to glance blankly at the greeting card now perched against my desk. "It's not that easy with the," I put air-quotes around this word, '"men" that find me attractive."

"Maybe, it's time you sought out your next date," Emmeline suggested.

"You're right. I will ask out my next date," I chimed.

"I have got to finish my report and then I am going home," Emmeline sighed. She looked exhausted.

"Had an overnighter?" I question her.

"My late night turned overnight, but the capture was made and overtime will be paid," she smirked with a smile and returned to her desk to finish her report. Her husband is seven years younger than she is, but she doesn't seem bothered by it. I guess with love, it doesn't matter.

"Okay Tonks, back to work!" I command myself. I figure if I finish this dreadful boring mess early, I can get out of here. I look down at the mass of papers and let out an exaggerated moan.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Emmeline tells me, not looking up. I set to work. Alastor Moody walks in.

I look up at him with a smile. "Wotcher Alastor."

"Morning Nymphadora," he replies as he walk/limps over to me. Anger flares up inside me. I prefer to be called Tonks not Nymphadora, yet this man persists on calling me it. Alastor has been my mentor since I graduated Hogwarts and went on to Auror training. Since he has been an Auror himself, now retired, he has been there and done that, so he took me under his wing and has not given up on me yet. Others have, but not this man.

"Do you really have to call me that?"

"Here we go again," Moody growls and rolls his eyes.

"It's Tonks!" I take out my wand and write my name in the air and underline it; then it disappears.

"Working hard, are we?" he muses, looking over the stack of work on my messy desk.

"We are," I mutter and notice Emmeline glance up at me.

"Good morning Emmeline," Alastor greets gruffly to Vance.

"Good morning Alastor," she smiles and collects her paperwork.

"Tough night I hear."

"Some people just don't know when to give up," she sighs and heads to Scrimgeor's office to turn it in. Lucky her. She gets to head out now. Alastor Moody follows her into the office. Even though he is retired, it is as if he is still working. Tells me an Auror's work is never done, no matter how old they are. Of course I want to ask his age, but then decide against it.

Emmeline gives me a wave as she dons her cloak and leaves. I wanted to turn myself into a bug and "slip" out with her. I got home from my date last night, therefore not getting much sleep and with a little spell, gotten myself out of bed and to work on time. As a matter of fact, I was fifteen minutes early! I'm so proud of myself! As a reward, a nice nap after work is an order.

As I "serve my time" I realize I am getting though the different cases with quite fast ease. Before I know it, the time is Ten A.M. and everything is in a neat stack on the left side of my desk. I crack my knuckles with a long stretch standing up. Gathering it all up, I take it to Scrimgeor.

I had to muster all the restraint I had to not say anything at all when all the completed paperwork was turned in and a whole stack of new paperwork of the same size was waiting for me. I just gathered it and left. One more second and I would've had to zip my mouth shut. I could only imagine the look on Sirius's face if he were here right now. I should pay him a visit later. We could share a laugh at my pathetic day over a bottle of Fire whisky. That'll be a nice surprise for him. Maybe his friend Remus could join us.

It's four in the afternoon when my sentence, er, shift ends. Finally! As I gather my things to go, Kingsley Shacklebolt enters to start his shift. He's cool. He knows how to pass the time. Tall, black and with a deep voice, he is gentle and has a great sense of humor. When we've had to pass long hours in the office in the past, he'd have me laughing and laughing. I could've really used it today.

"Wotcher Kingsley," I smile and go over to him. He gives me a smile.

"Let me see, drag in your step, va—"I yarn loudly. "You had desk duty today."

"All day," I whine. "I really wish you could've been there with me."

"Serve a sentence with you," Kingsley Shacklebolt pondered, then started laughing.

"Hopefully I will be done with this soon. I'll see you later," I give him a smile. He ruffles my hair with his massive hand. I smack his hand away playfully and glare up at him. Just because I am miniscule next to his tall broad stature, does not give him the right to ruffle my hair.

"See ya," he grins and I can't help but smile as leave. Kingsley and I have gotten on well since I first started this job. I went on my first mission with him. He may seem intimidating on the outside, but is in fact very kind and reassuring.

My couch just about screams my name when I open the door to my flat. No meeting tonight so I can take my extended nap and not worry about being late or anything. Since it is a cool, breezy summer day, I open the windows to let the air in. Ah, refreshing, I smile, remembering last week to be very humid and just plain unbearable. I don't even take off my boots as I go over and plop down on the squishy piece of furniture. My house, my rules. Just as I'm about to fall asleep, I hear a scratching at my screen. Craning my head up, I look to see a big tawny owl scratching at my window. The owl has a stern look upon its face as it continues its persistent scratching. I recognize the owl. Has the same stern look as Alastor Moody, it does. He must've trained it to be that way. Groaning, I get up and open the window. Immediately the owl flies in and lands on the arm of the couch. I shuffle over to him and take the note from its outstretched talon and open it. "GP6" is all it says. I groan loudly. There goes my nap. I'm not even going to bother and have a repeat of last night's performance.

Wait a minute. Didn't we just have a meeting last night? Something urgent must've come up. I realize Alastor Two still sitting on my couch. I gave him the name seeing the creature always giving me the same look as Alastor himself. Moody has a name for him, but that is what I call him.

"I'm not allowed to have pets," I tell the owl as he starts to scratch. He gives me a final look and is off. There goes my quiet night with a bottle and release therapy.

I decide to go out for a quick bite before the meeting starts. I do not have much at home and haven't been shopping in a bit. I must make a point to do that.

At about five forty-five, I apparate to the alley close to Grimmauld Place. As soon as I step out, it starts to rain. Geez, does it ever stop raining? I quickly pad my way to the house and enter before I'm soaked. Hair vibrant lavender, I walk down the highway with my eye on the umbrella stand. Mrs. Weasley opens the door before I reach it.

"Hello dear," the vibrant, red-headed mother of seven greets.

"Wotcher Molly," I greet as I make my way over to her. I trip over the umbrella stand in the process. How? I just had my eye on it. She distracted me, that's why. I don't know how I am always tripping over it. I blame my dad for my clumsiness.

"All right there dear?" she questions, putting a hand on my shoulder as I collect myself and we both walk into the dining room where the meeting is to be held.

"Do you know why Dumbledore called a meeting so soon?"

"None of us really know, but it must be important," Molly confided and I looked around. A few members had already arrived, such as Emmeline and Kingsley. Wasn't he supposed to be at work? Sirius was in his usual place, talking idly to Remus. They see me walk in and I greet them with a small smile and put up a finger to indicate I will be over there in a minute and saunter over to Kingsley sitting adjacent to Emmeline, in light conversation. I wish he had hair so I could ruffle it, but unfortunately he has none, so I just sit next to him and idly say, "Somebody should be at work."

"Oh but I am. I have a lead on Sirius Black and went to check it out," Kingsley winks. The Auror Office is still on the hunt for Sirius Black. They would sack us and throw us in Azkaban if they knew we knew where Sirius Black was and did nothing about it. Scrimgoer has Kingsley idling on the case and seeing as Kingsley knows the truth about Sirius and is Pro-Dumbledore, gives misleading information and leads on him. I guess he is using a "lead" right now to attend the meeting.

"You're a sneaky man, you are," I grin and go over to Sirius and Remus.

"Wotcher gentlemen," I greet, taking a seat.

"Hello Tonks," Remus smiles.

"Purple today," Sirius notes. I flip my hair then ask the men if they know why a sudden meeting was called. Neither knew.

As the rest of the members filed into the room, the meeting began.

"Sorry, to have called on all of you so soon, but unexpected events have called upon us for immediate actions." Always maintains his well-read manner, he does. I could've said that in fewer words. "I was informed there was a sighting of two Dementors in the town of Little Winging this evening. There is no information stating whether there was a reason for them to be there, I do know there was an encounter with two of its residences; one of them being Harry Potter." There was an audible gasp from the crowd. The Boy Who Lived as he was called. He was able to bring down You-Know-Who and as a mere infant too. Harry Potter's parents were killed by him, yet some strange power from the boy rebounded onto You-Know-Who, sending him away weak and into hiding. Since then, many an evil have tried to take down Harry, but with powerful protection, have all failed.

"Since a Patronus charm was used for the defense, the Ministry is trying Mr. Potter for underage wand usage. I will take part of that trial in the coming week, but for now I feel Mr. Potter would be safer here than the residence he currently resides in," Dumbledore continues.

"It only seems right that he should be here instead of being forced to stay there with those pretentious Muggles!" Sirius demanded.

"As Harry's Godfather, I understand your anger, but we need to handle the situation as subtly and quiet as possible," Dumbledore consoled. Wow, Sirius is Harry Potter's Godfather. Who knew? "We need to find a way to send his Guardians out for a while before we escort Mr. Potter. Are there any suggestions?"

"What are these Muggles like?" I question. My dad is a Muggle, but by judging Sirius's distaste for them, they may not be the friendliest kind.

"Awful, materialistic," Sirius counts off.

"How about we send them a letter telling them they've won an award and their prize was quite a distance from their home," I suggest.

"That is something we can use," Remus mused. "Does anyone know the style of Neighborhood in which they live in?"

"Stuffy, uptight, not a blade of grass out of place," Sirius informed.

"How about a prize for have the best kept lawn in all of Little Winging," I suggest.

"Excellent idea Ms. Tonks!" Dumbledore smiles. "Would you mind composing the letter?"

"I'd be happy to."

"I will give you the address. Date it for tomorrow night at seven. The selected persons will leave at six-thirty." I get up to start the letter. "Anyone here volunteers to take part of the mission." Three-quarters of the room raises their hand, myself included and I notice Remus has too.


	4. Chapter 4

Dumbledore beams as he looks over the sea of hands.

"Most excellent," he chimes. He chooses a group of seven of us and I see out of the corner of my eye the disappointment on Sirius's face when he is obviously overlooked because of his condition.

"Tomorrow we will meet here at six to iron out of the details. Until then, keep your eyes peeled and expect the unexpected."

As Dumbledore concludes, some people begin to file out. Molly Weasley offers to cook dinner and quite a few people stick around to partake in her delicious cooking. Molly is the mother of all mothers and treats others like they were her own children. Even though she has many children of her own, many of which could be pointed out in a crowd with their distinguished red hair and freckles, she is keen on helping all that need help.

I notice Tonks offer to help Molly with the evening's meal and see her smile as she refuses, telling the young woman she could whip up dinner with her eyes closed. As Tonks goes to retrieve the dinnerware, a plate slips out of her hands and drops to the floor, shattering. Everyone stops to glance at the minor disturbance and then go about their business.

"I promise you Molly that does not happen every day. I just have a lot on my mind," Tonks tries to mend. She looks up when Molly puts a hand on her shoulder.

"It's quite alright dear; we all have our bad days. You just take it easy and leave all the work to me." She walks away and heads over to Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance where she joins in their conversation.

I decide to head upstairs and talk strategy with Sirius. He disappeared into his room shortly after the meeting ended; maybe hurt over the feeling of helplessness. After all, he is Harry Potter's Godfather and his only relative still alive, not counting his Aunt and Uncle who do not want to have a relationship with him.

I first met Harry Potter when I did a year of teaching. This is also where I reencountered with Sirius. When he escaped Azkaban, he headed to Hogwarts. Not only did he want to see his Godson he never really had the chance to get to know, but I believe he wanted to return to the place of the time in which he was happy and able to walk outside without fear.

I give two short knocks on the door and a squawking greets me. Did I mention he has a pet Hippogriff named Buckbeak. Buckbeak was also saved from a wrongful sentence. When I do not receive a response, I use his nickname, "Padfoot."

"Mooney," he replies and I enter. Sirius is sitting on the edge of his bed, scratching Buckbeak under his chin. The Hippogriff closes his eyes in contentment.

I sit beside him and watch the Hippogriff eye me. I'm not sure why, but I don't have an urgent need to fill the silence.

"What would you be doing right now, if you were not under the influence of the moon?" he questions, his eyes still on his pet. I know this answer. I think about it all the time when roadblocks present themselves and I find myself questioning my choices.

"I'd be happy," is all I say. We've talked about this before. "I'd have a permanent occupation. You know what? I think I'd be married with a few children.

"With Liana Shanton," Sirius smirks. "What ever happened to her?"

"I let her go," I reply glumly. "I could not bring myself to reveal my secret to her and decided it was best to part ways.

"You do not even know how she would've taken it," he scolds.

"This was, what, fifteen years ago," I argue, not liking where the conversation was turning. I came in here to console him, not end up needing a console.

"Have things improved since then?" he questions, knowing the answer, seeing my status. I do not say anything. What could I say? He was right. I could not turn the conversation back on him because if it were not for the house arrest, he would be able to live a normal life.

After a moment of silence, I decide to turn the conversation back over to the one that needs it. "What would you be doing right now?"

"I'd be an Auror," he replied simply. "Most of my family would have a permanent cell in Azkaban," he growls, loathing the house where many of them had grown up and to whom he shares blood with.

Trying to lighten the mood, I question, "Would you have married Erica Yanra?"

A look of honest confusion crosses his face. "Who?" he questions.

"Erica Yanra. She was one of Lily's good friends. It seemed like you two had something going on.

"I remember her! We were never serious. It was only casual—"Sirius was cutoff as Mrs. Weasley called out for dinner. We stand up and join the others in the dining room.

* * *

The mission went according to plan. We were able to bring Harry Potter from his home, perfectly empty, to Grimmauld Place. The act of teamwork was greatly professional. Alastor Moody took lead and in turn was given great respect. I could see the pride in Tonks's eyes as she partook in the mission. It must've been great for her to be in the field, even though it was not official Auror business. I guess we all have secrets.

Potter was welcomed with open arms. The Weasley family seemed to be the most excited to see him. Mrs. Weasley made a fuss on his thin frame and went to work to fix it. No one compared to the expectancy Harry had when he sought out his Godfather and the two embraced. If it had not been for the conviction, Harry would've been able to grow up in a home with people who actually cared.

Even though I had Lycanthropy as a child, I never felt as if my parents had given up on me or treated me any different and with the thoughtfulness of Dumbledore to accommodate a Werewolf on the Hogwarts grounds, I hardly felt like my ailment was detrimental to my life. It actually began afterwards in the workforce with the mass prejudice of "my kind."

"Alright there Remus?" I hear a distant voice call to me. I snap out of my inner thoughts as I see a concerned Tonks appear in front of me.

"Sorry about that. My mind tends to wander far sometimes," I tell her. Mrs. Weasley sets down a plate for Harry and he starts to eat.

"Tell me about it. Just the other day, I fell asleep at my desk—thanks Sirius (she glares at him)—and all I remember was answering the question 1792 before waking up. If you want your mind to wander, History of Magic was where it left the room, crawled down the stairs and left the castle.

I laugh. There is such a difference between the Tonks at the Desk and the Tonks in the field. I guess if people don't believe in you, you tend to not believe in yourself.

"Thought you could use a laugh," she smiles. "Great mission, huh."

"If it wasn't for you, Moody would have had us soaked to the bone with the clouds we would have gone through."

"I'm actually quite impressed with your broomstick riding skills. Did you ever play Quiddich?" Tonks question, impressed.

"Quiddich wasn't my game to play. I was more of a fan. Harry's father James was the Quiddich player," Lupin reminisced.

"I remember seeing his name in the trophy cabinet at school."

"Remus, this is Tonks. Tonks, Remus," Sirius booms with a sly smile on his face. The two of us stare at him. "Well, the two of are hitting it off so well." We continue to stare at him. "I'm just saying," he muses, the smile never leaving his face as he stalks away. Tonks giggles and I give her a smile.

"I have to get going," she tells me. "Work in the morning."

"The answer is 1794," I joke, so she would keep her smile on.

She laughs. "Always a pleasure."

"The pleasures all mine," I reply and she turns to go.

"The pleasures all mine," I hear a high-pitched mocking behind me. I turn and Sirius has returned.

"Shut up," is all I can say and walk away. He follows.

"Padfoot, I think you should go for it."

"What, no."

"Why not?"

"I don't even consider it. Besides, I'm too old for her. My finances are not where I want them to be. And let's not mention my—"

"Remus, you're doing it again."


	5. Chapter 5

"Nymphadora Tonks," Rufus Scrimgoer recognizes as I stand before him in the Auror office; on time, thank you very much. Ten minutes early, actually. I'm ready to "finish my paperwork sentence," and get back to the real deal. I cringe on the inside as my name is spelled out in front of me, but let it pass. It's not like I could make a biting comment anyway. His tone is positive. Maybe he finally recognizes a great Auror standing before him. Twenty-two years old. Youngest Auror to grace Britain's Auror department since well…ever.

"You started off here so well. One of the youngest Aurors we've seen. You showed great skill and enthusiasm," Scrimgoer goes on, leaning back in his chair, idly fiddling with a dry quill. So far so good. I keep my face neutral of emotion and continue to listen. This is it!

"But it seems…" he places the quill on the desk and sits up to look at me. "…as if lately you've lost that enthusiasm. I am beginning to wonder if you are going to stay with this career in the future." What? He sounded upbeat and drops this kind of bomb on me! I would not be here if I was not serious. I have wanted to be an Auror since my fourth year! Does he think I'm some teenage witch working a summer job to make an expensive purchase?

"This is a career not to be taken lightly," he continues.

"I understand that," is all I could say. I honestly don't know how to react to what he is saying. My stomach dropped as all hope was sucked from the room.

"People die in this line of work," he goes on as if I had not said anything.

"I understand," I repeat, still finding what he was saying shocking.

"If you were serious, you would not show up late!" he growled, anger starting to rise in his voice. "In an emergency, your tardiness could mean life or death for those in trouble and for your fellow Aurors."

"I understand," I say a third time, stupidly. Do I have any other words in my vocabulary?

"Then prove it!" he snaps, I guess also sick of my lack of vocabulary. "I suggest you think long and hard about how serious you are about this line of work. I do not want to have to send one of my Aurors to identify your careless corpse."

"My apologizes," I mutter, not able to look at my boss anymore. I know all of this. We were briefed on all of this, the moment we started Auror training and the also the time training was complete. Moody let me know this frequently when he took me under his wing. He taught and informed me well. I am not letting him down… but the image I must be conveying must make him look bad. This was not my intention. Somehow, I feel guilty. "My actions were disgraceful, but I am serious about being here; being an Auror."

"Then prove it," he repeats, this time a lot calmer, but still holding its stern edge. He then gives me my yet again desk duty assignment and sends me on my merry way. I bite my tongue, "proving my maturity" and go to work. I am fuming on the inside; angry because he sees me as some immature child, worried because I'm probably going to be sacked in the near future and upset because I can't prove my worth sitting at a desk filing everyone elses adventures. I remember Sirius telling me to just get through it and sooner or later I'll have proven myself, or something and return to the way things were, when I was out in the field, keeping the peace, guarding what needed guarding and putting away those that needed to be put away. My hands tremble slightly as I feel a hint of angry tears in the back of my eyes. I put down the quill I was holding and take a deep inhale and let it out slowly. I was not going to cry in this office. I tap my fingers on my desk as I take another deep breath. Jiggling my foot, I try to focus on a happy thought until this subsides. Remembering the banter with Remus and Sirius and taking a few more breaths, I muster up enough energy to work.

How did my life spiral down the Lou?

Somehow I made it through the day. I couldn't really speak with anyone, afraid I would go off on them or breakdown. Thank goodness most Aurors were out on duty, so they wouldn't see my edge and question it.

Opening the door to my flat, as messy as ever, I kick off my boots and not care where they land. The couch just calls my name as I throw myself onto it and finally let out all the anger and frustration with a good cry. It had to come out sometime. I don't know how I held it in all day. It feels weak to do, but there is also a relief to it. I really just don't care right now. I just need sleep it off…

On my day off, I swear I'll go food shopping. I just don't have the interest to cook tonight. The Leaky Cauldron usually has something good and I could really use a drink, so I don my awesome boots and head out. It's raining again and the humidity is as raw as ever. 'What ever happened to cool evenings and clear skies? I really need to move to the coast,' I muse as I stroll the humid streets. People look miserable. Some people seem a bit overdressed in this heat. All I wear is a black tank top and jeans cut off at the knee. Blue hair is an order for the kind of day I had; cerulean and shoulder length.

It's eight in the evening when I enter the pub and inn. Quite a few people were there, but it wasn't jam packed. I was about to find a seat in a far corner for my pity party of one, when I saw a familiar friendly face sitting at the bar. Cancel the singular pity party, I could use company.

"Wotcher Remus," I chime, suddenly feeling a bit better. He was pleasant to talk to and its entertaining to watch him and Sirius banter. He turned around and I noticed the warmness was gone, but then it seemed to return when he noticed me.

"Good evening Tonks," he greeted with a small smile.

"All right there?" I questioned as I take a seat beside him.

"I'm just not having the best of days," he replies as he takes a swig of his drink and sets it down. The bartender comes over and I order a Sherry.

"I can relate," I reply glumly, staring down at the pattern of the scratched and knicked, wooden table. Then I turn to Remus. "I go to work today on a positive note, ready to get to work and I was told off. You're not serious, you should consider another line of work, you need to prove yourself," I tell the man beside me , biting the last part. My drink is served and I take a long swig.

"The time will come when they see who you really are," He consoles, taking another drink. Tracing a finger along the rim of my glass, I snort, not meaning to.

"Hardly. How do I," I put up air quotes, "prove myself when I'm sitting at a desk all day."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit," he tells me. "You were on the front line before, you will be there again."

"I don't know... If I cannot do my true job, I'm not going to stick around as the invisible receptionist. If I wanted to be invisible, I would have donned a cloak."

"Are you just going to quit because you're in a rough patch?" he questions, a rise in his tone.

"You don't know what I had to deal with! My fate has been chosen for me. It's only a matter of time before it happens!" I finish my drink and order another one.

"You should not give up. Employment is hard to come by for some. Those who have it should embrace it," Lupin says as he finishes his drink and orders another one. I don't know what it is, but this handsome man is starting to irk me. Deal with it, he says. Things will get better, he says. Things went from great to lousy, but he doesn't seem to understand.

"Are you saying I'm not grateful?" I snap, wanting to shout and vent. Actually, I wanted to shout ever since the morning, but now seems like the best time. I was looking to Remus for support and he does not seem to want to give it. In fact, I think he's trying to insult me.

"No, I am not saying that. I was just making a general inference. Forgive me if I came off as disparaging," he apologizes, but I'm not convinced.

"I happen to be one of the youngest Auror's out there, working side-by-side with some of the more experienced, busted my bum through training for three years and have experience stories for days! Don't tell me I'm not grateful!" Realizing I was starting to shout, I turn around and notice a few people are staring.

"So a rough patch is going to take all of that away?" Remus questions, an edge to his voice. "You do not want to run away, the one moment things are not as they seem."

"I don't run! You don't even know me!" That's it! I've had it! Abruptly getting up, I place, more like throw enough money with a small tip onto the table and storm out. Stupid handsome man! If he was in my shoes he'd understand. All I wanted was some support and I'm insulted! Whatever… The pity party has been rescheduled to…well, now. Tonks, pity party of one.


	6. Chapter 6

-R.L.

Assignment. G.P. 11

On assignment. There are risks,always risks, but fighting for peace has never been an easy battle. You are never sent alone, though. No one should have to fight alone.

I hope Tonks is not still angry with me. She is a good person, but needs to stand up when life brings her down. Everyone reaches the bottom at times; it's how you stand up and fight back that shows your character. She's young. I just hope she stays with her Auror profession. Once an opportunity is gone, it will not come back.

The Daily Prophet sits on the table open halfway through. A few small boxes are circled with the Hippogriff quill sitting in a small jar of ink to it's right. I am on the job search again… Employment always finds me though, similar to the wand choosing the wizard, I suppose. I would gladly assist The Order of the Pheonix any way I can. In a better world, people will be more understanding of others who are…"different."

-10:30 P.M.—

Creatures do go bump in the night. Apparating to Grimmauld Place, it's dark, give a few lights on in various windows. The street is lined with cars of muggles settled in for the night. I enter and announce a greeting to show I am who I say I am.

"Wot-…" greets a blonde woman in a black cloak, sitting at the dining room table, eating from a carton of what appeared to be Chinese takeout. She abruptly stands up.

"I just want t—"

"I just want t—" The two of us begin at the same time and then stop.

"I want to apologize for blowing up on you yesterday. I was in a bad mood," Nymphadora tells me, guilt clearly written across her face.

"I should have had a little more sympathy," I reply, feeling a bit guilty myself. I too was in a bad mood and lashed out on the first person that let me.

"You were right though," she says, a bit fo the guilt gone. I should not give up just because things become difficult."

"You can talk to me about anything and I will listen. Do not let yesterday discourage you from doing so."

"Thank you," Tonks smiles and sits back down, returning to her meal.

"Want a bite?" she asks me. I turn to her.

"No, thank you." Tonks and I turn as Alastor Moody enters the room. I did not even hear him enter.

"Evening," he greets the pair of us.

"Good evening Alastor," I return the greeting. From the corner of my eye I see Nymphadora nonchalantly turn her head away from his general area, twirling her noodles with a plastic fork. He seems unfazed by it.

"I am here tonight to give you your assignment and a debriefing, but first, Nymphadora, I would like a word in private with you," Alastor tells us. Immediately, Tonk's hair turns its crimson; the way it does when someone calls her by her surname Nuymphadora.

"Really Alastor? Do you have to keep on calling me that name?" she yells to the man. There's a small crook of a smile that appears for a second and fades. Alastor softens a bit.

"A word Tonks," he growls and leaves the room, an invitation for her to follow. She abandons her food and with a sigh gets up and follows.

I wonder if Sirius is still awake. He would volunteer himself in a second to go on assignment; anything to leave this wreched place. I don't want to risk waking him or Buckbeak or anyone for that matter.

When they return, Alastor appears as if trying to mask a smile, yet Nymphadora cannot seem to get one off of her face. She returns to her spot at the table, but instead of eating, lays the fork into the container and closes it, setting it aside. I sit beside her, realizing that I was standing in the same spot since they left the room.

"We received word that there is suspicious activity going on in Diagon Alley this past week," Moody begins. Diagon Alley. Something is always going on down there and its barely positive.

"There is always suspicious play going on there," Nymphadora interjects. "What makes you think this is out of the ordinary?"

"Sources say there may have been several reports of Death Eaters plotting to take out known Aurors and we have word that they may be stationed in Diagon Alley. I want the pair of you to check it out."

"Right," Tonks nods.

"We're on it," I add.

"Always remember, you are not in this alone. If you need backup, call for it," Alastor prompts. We follow him out and at the exact same moment, give a nod and apparate.

Diagon Alley at night. There is activity, but it seems similar to that which you see in the daylight, only with less people. Even at this late night hour. I guess it's easier to make mischief under the veil of darkness.

We stroll the streets, keeping our eyes everywhere yet appearing to be looking nowhere. Constant vigilance, as Moody seems to tell us many times. Use more than your eyes to see. My partner to the left of me seems to be using her senses also as she "casually" strolls beside me. So far, everything looks as it should, but that disprove what is going on behind closed doors.

"You know, he's not that bad," Tonks states, coming out of a thought.

"Hmm?" I question.

"Mad-Eye. He has a rough exterior, but deep down, there's a warm nature. He took me under his wing since my beginning days of Auror training and has not given up on me since. For that I am thankful," she tells me, a fond look in her eye.

"Good man, he is. You have to grow a tough skin, doing all the things he has done. Paves the way, he does."

"He has my back, he does. You know, when he took me to the side, he told me I was going to get a chance tomorrow. Convinced him to send me out into the field to prove myself and Scrimgoer accepted. I'm going to be sent out tomorrow and should "act surprised," but poised when I find out in the morning," Tonk chimed, the smile from before, returning. "This is what I was meant to do."

"Everything gets better with time," I tell her. It has to get better. We can only go up from here. Maybe I will find my good news in the morning waiting for me in the form of an owl.

"All right there?" I hear on the corner of my thoughts. I turn to Tonks.

"Sorry there, my mind wandered for a moment," I apologize, with a small smile.

"Anything you want to talk about?" she questions.

"It's nothing, really. I'm just seeking employment and it's a bit tough at the moment, but don't worry, things will get better."

"I'm sorry. If I hear or see something, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Thank you."

So far, so good. It would be better to have a night without activity, than one with trouble.

"Remus, look to your right, in the far corner," Tonks whispers, with a slight head-nod to the alleyway.

"I saw that too," I whisper and we casually and quietly stroll in that direction. Wands semi at the ready, we watch for the disturbance. Out of view, we see a man dressed in a long black cloak with the hood down, glance nervously down each end of the alleyway, wand in hand, but hand down so it points to the floor.

This just appears to be a man in the night, until a door in the alleyway opens and a man with dark hair and average traveling clock comes out to address the man.

"I really want to join! Great things are going to happen, I can feel it! The Dark Lord!" the nervous man shreaks.

"How do I know your loyalty?" the other man speculates boredly.

"I am loyal! What do you want me to do?"

"I want an auror," he replies just as simply.

"Pardon?"

"I want you to bring me an Auror. You seem llike the type to crack, so you need to prove to me and everyone else that you have what it takes."

After a long hesistation, the coy man replies, "Alright…I'll—I'll do it. I'll do it."

"You know where to find me," the alley man says uninterested, then retreats back through the door in which he came. Wand still pointing toward the ground, the man leaves the alleyway, body shaking from head to toe. Once out of the alley, he leans against the wall and sinks down. Covering his face with his hands, he talks to no one. 'What do I do?' he says. 'What do I do?'

At the same moment, we decide that the trouble is over and re-enter of casual stroll.

"Someone wants to head down a dangerous path," Tonks sighs sadly.

"His heart is not in it, which will make trying so much more difficult," I reply just as down-trodden. There will come a time when everyone will have to choose a side. Some will choose the darkside because they are threatened or will be blinded with dishonorable "reward."

"He needs someone to tell him that the path he is headed down will only hurt him in the end. Follow my lead," Tonks says as she places her hood over her head. I follow suit, knowing what we are about to do and accepting the plan. We walk over to the man who has not moved or lifted his head. He does not hear our approaching footsteps.

"Go home, son," I begin. The man, startled, looks up and drops his wand.

"You do not want to do that!" Tonks continues.

"I-…I-…" the man stutters. "I don't know what to do!" he shouts.

"Go home," I repeat. The man starts sobbing as he feels around for his wand. We are at the ready, but he does not look viable for attack. After a moment, he apparates; hopefully going home.

"Let's go report," Tonks says. "Then I can go home and get a little sleep before my hopefully positive shift in the morning."

"I agree. I don't think anything is going to happen beyond this scope," I tell her and we apparate back to Grimmauld Place. When we return to Grimmauld Place, Tonks sends a letter to Alastor Moody and he meets us within five minutes to discuss our findings and briefly discuss further actions, which will be mentioned at the next Order meeting.


End file.
